Swords and Scales
by lukebrambles
Summary: Ages come and Ages pass, for the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. The Dragons will rise, and the Vikings will fall, unless there is one strong enough to change the fate of both races... 8 years after Hiccup left, Berk is nearly in ruins, and rumours of something terrible are reaching them...
1. Chapter 1

There could be no graves, not here. What little ground didn't freeze was needed for farming or grazing. For the famous and the powerful a crypt would be built, either hewn from the ground, or converted natural caves. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third had not been a famous hero. He had no crypt, and he had not had a pyre – what would have been the point? His disappearance had been noticed by few, and he had been mourned by fewer.  
And yet, someone had. Here, on a rocky bluff overlooking the ocean, there was a small, simple monument. No more than an elaborate cairn, with a plaque of polished granite inscribed with his name. It wasn't much, but it was all they had.

* * *

Spiderwebs of light flashed across the darkened sky, too quickly to illuminate anything. The rain was torrential, as though the divide between sea and sky had ceased to exist. Njörðr was raging, the wind an almost solid force. Whole tribes trembled at their hearths as the Gods danced and clashed, shaking the earth with their power. Not even madmen would be outside in this.  
These thoughts flashing through his head, he adjusted his grip and crouched lower in the saddle. 'You ready bud?' he asked and got a slap from an ear. 'Of course you are' he said with a laugh, 'Nothing scares you does it? Well, here goes!' Clicking his foot into place, they reached the end of the island, and flew out into the teeth of the gale.  
Lightning crashed around them, the sea was reaching for them and the wind would have ripped the wings of a lesser dragon. Exultation began to rise in his breast, and ripped a scream of primal joy from his lips. Lesser men and dragons might struggle, but he was on a Night Fury! The greatest of dragons! When they flew like this, they could dance with the gods themselves. A click of the gears, and they rolled underneath and through a curling wave and shot into the sky. With the wind behind them and the legendary speed of the Night Fury, nothing could touch them, nothing could even come close! Another gear change, and suddenly they were flying through a maze of sea stacks, almost too fast for the eye to follow. They were perfectly synchronised now, working together on pure instinct and adrenaline. Pulling up, they shot over an island, passing it by so fast they barely noticed the flickering lights of a town. Crouching lower, and changing gears again, he looked at his companion. 'Wanna go for it?' A warble of agreement later, and they were shooting for the anvil shaped thundercloud above.

The thunder claps were shaking their very bones, sparks were crawling along every bit of metal, and they were flying like they had never had to fly before. 'Click'. They rolled left, a bolt of lightning inches away from his face. 'Click'. A back-loop, missing another two bolts. 'Click'. Another roll. 'Click'. The bolts were getting closer, the moves more desperate, and the intervals shorter and shorter and then…

* * *

Gobber the Belch was a smith, and a good one. There wasn't much that he didn't know, or so the village seemed to think. He sighed, looked at the weapon in his hand and turned to the young warrior in his doorway.

'Ah'm sorry Astrid, there's not much ah can do.'

'But you made it! Why can't you fix it?' she cried. There was something… odd about the tone of her voice, something that just didn't seem like Astrid. He'd figure it out sooner or later, but for now…

'You think ah made this? This is beyond me, haven't got the hands f'r it.' he said, raising a bushy eyebrow at her. '

This is one o' Hiccups. See the fine detail on the edging, and the balance? That's why he always did the special order stuff.' Gobber turned back to the anvil.

'Ah can probably do summat t'mak it useable again, but it'll never be the same'

'Oh' she said, in a small and completely un-Astrid way. Taking pity on her, he took it out of her hands.

'Look lass, I know it's important to ye, so ah'll do my best with it, make it look good as new, and ye can hang it on yer wall. Ah'll make ye another axe, this was getting a bit small for ye anyway. Now go on, off with ye. Can't stand around yammerin all day wit ye, you've got recruits tah train.'

'Thanks Gobber, I mean it', she called over her shoulder, already making her way over to the arena. He sighed again, and looked at the axe. 'Ah Hiccup, why'd you have to go and leave this old man in the forge by himself?'


	2. Chapter 2

As she jogged over to the arena, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Gobber had little enough left, and she'd been responsible for taking away the recruits. He was still the blacksmith, even if he couldn't fix her axe. Maybe trader Johann would know someone who could fix it? Bah, she wouldn't be able to justify the expense if it was too bad for Gobber to fix. Shaking her head, she paused to watch the lesson in progress in the arena. Snotlout was supposed to be teaching, it should be amusing to watch. Scanning the arena, she could see the trainees gathered against a wall, most of who seemed to be laughing, the old, slow gronkle they used to introduce the trainees to fighting dozing in the sunlight, but _where_ was Snotlout? Surely he wasn't so irresponsible to have just left them to it? Oh. Now she saw. She sighed heavily to herself, and went down to drag him out from underneath the sleeping dragon. He'll have done it on purpose, because of course he did. He was the mighty Snotlout who never made mistakes! Grinning at the hapless and incorrigible boy, she reached the gate and stepped into the ring.

* * *

With a final scream and a last, desperate dodge, they were through. Hiccup whooped in exhilaration, and Toothless let out a celebratory plasma blast. 'Oh come on!' Hiccup groaned as they flew through it.

Above the clouds, it was as though they'd flown into another world. It was almost peaceful, only the roiling blue-black clouds beneath them hinted at the turmoil below. Glancing back Hiccup gave a gasp. The tailfin was on fire! But why wasn't it burning? As he watched, the unearthly violet flames moved along the connecting rods and wires, and slowly climbed his prosthetic. He felt weirdly calm; there was no heat, only a vague buzzing sound. He reached down, but as he did so, the flames leapt onto his arm, and soon both he and Toothless were engulfed. He shook his head, engulfed was the wrong word, it was more like they were outlined….  
'Hey bud, you ever seen anything like this before?' he asked, more than a little trepidation creeping into his voice.  
'Do you, do you think we died?' Toothless gave a snort and slapped him with his ears.  
'Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question'  
Toothless turned to give him what can only be described as a _Look_, but his expression changed and he gave a soft warble of delight to see that Hiccup was as wreathed in the whatever-it-was as he was.  
'I guess that means this is something special then, huh?' With an affirmative warble, Toothless turned back to his gliding. Hiccup was entranced, lifting his hand and turning it this way and that, admiring the violet-blue flames that burned without heat, and were cool to the touch.

They flew on, Dragon and Rider, floating in the sky. Above them danced the auroras, and below them the clouds churned as though they were a second sea. No words were spoken; none were needed, not in this place. It was a rare moment of bliss, and the duo savoured every second.

* * *

As the trade ship came in to dock, there was an appreciable crown gathered to greet it. Gobber danced impatiently from foot to foot stump, and the gangplank was barely settled before he was aboard.  
'Looking for anything in particular Master Gobber?' the trader asked with a twinkle in his eye. Gobber groaned as he turned to him.

'Don't toy with me Johann, did you get any?'

'Any what?' Johann responded, barely keeping a straight face. This elicited a growl and a string of unintelligible and unprintable words as Gobber starting stumping over.

'Calm down, calm down!' Johann said, raising his hands and finally breaking into laughter.  
'I wouldn't leave you hanging like that now would I? I also have something else you might be interested in…'

Gobber perked up a bit at this, the things Johann brought him were always interesting. After arranging with Mulch to cart the desperately needed scrap metal back to his forge, Gobber managed to again wrest Johann's attention away from the few remaining shoppers.

'Well, wha' was it ye wanted ta show me?'

'This' Johann replied, drawing a short-sword from his side, and handing it over. 'I thought you'd be interested in the craftsmanship.'  
Hefting it, and turning it this way and that, Gobber stared at it in perplexity.

'It's well balanced, ah'll give ye that, but it's too thin and light, it'd never hold in battle!'

'Would it not?' the trader asked, the beginning of a sly grin appearing on his features. 'If you're sure, how about a little wager? If you can damage it, you can have it, and the other metal. If you can't, you pay full price for the scrap, and pay my tab at the hall tonight'.

'Ye know, I had ye pegged as an intelligent man Johann, and ye've just given me all that metal'. Gobber looked up from the sword and grinned. 'Why don't we go and sort this now, eh?'

* * *

'But that's impossible!' scowled Gobber, as he set down his hammer and looked about in dismay at the scattered, and mostly broken tools.

'What is it made of Johann, ye've got to tell me!' he implored. 'Ah can't melt it in my forge, and it's broken two swards and a mace, and it hasn't even chipped!' 'Johann, ye've got tah tell me how tah make this'.

Johann just looked at him and shrugged apologetically. 'I don't know' he said.

'But ye ken find out, right?' Gobber asked, hope beginning to rise, only to be dashed moments later as Johann replied

'I can't, believe me I've tried. I've offered him everything I own, and he still refused me. He guards that secret nearly as well as he guards his name.'

'Ye mean ye don't even know who made this?!' Gobber exclaimed. Again, Johann just shrugged.

'No-one seems to know much about him, other than he's a smith of unrivalled talent'.

Gobber just snorted at this.

'No-one knows what clan he's from, or even if he is from a clan. No-one that I know of has ever seen his face, he wears dark armour all the time, I've never seen the like! It cost me half a hold of metal and sulphur to get this sword, and even then it was only because he seems fond of me.'

Another snort followed that.

'They just call him The Smith because he won't tell anyone his name. I'm surprised you've not heard of him yet, he seems to have visited all the other tribes. Young Thuggory of the Meatheads seemed to get on well with him, and there were stories of him hiding in the rafters of the young Bog heir's house to avoid some of those women. But stories take a toll on the throat, and I believe you owe me a drink. Or twelve.'  
Putting his arm around the still troubled smith, Johann steered him over towards the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hello dear readers, I'm sorry this third chapter has been so long in coming, I've been looking after my very ill dog. Yes, that was St Elmo's fire I was describing in the last chapter. It's a very real phenomenon, and both beautiful and terrifying to look at. Some violence ahead._**

Hiccup was tired. By the Gods, he wasn't sure he'd ever been so tired in his life. He didn't think he could even begin to comprehend how tired Toothless must be. They had been flying for so long now, longer than they had ever flown before. He wasn't sure just how long Toothless could go on for, but he had to be reaching the end of his strength soon. Not a comforting thought.  
The Odinfire (as he had named it) hadn't stuck around long, and even the auroras had faded away. Beneath them, the storm had blown itself out, and the ocean seemed to go on forever. Normally, Hiccup loved this, the open sea and sky, spending time alone with his best friend but now the vast emptiness spoke of not of freedom, but of desolation and resonated with the loneliness he had thought so well buried. He hated how melancholy he got when tired. Sighing, he shook himself and sat up a little straighter, peering around with new determination. They had to find land soon, they had to.

* * *

Lookout duty was an unfortunate fact of Camicazi's life. Even though being the Heir to the Bog-Burglar Tribe brought some perks, it didn't allow her to escape taking her turn on the guard roster. She fidgeted in bored agitation. She hated guard duty when there didn't seem to be much chance of something happening. Still, pirates had been spotted recently, and she did not want them to make it to the village. Running her fingers along the hilt of her sword, she let her mind wandered back to the last time she'd encountered pirates…

* * *

She had been returning from a trip to the Meatheads on a standard 'diplomatic' thing, but she'd been able to filch Thuggory's best sword (it had been the last one the Smith had made before disappearing), which had made the trip feel almost worthwhile. She'd been gloating over it when another vessel had loomed out of the fog. She barely had the chance to shout an alert before a crossbow bolt had appeared in the neck of the first guard. The other two had died before they even finished drawing their weapons. She had been disarmed, but not before she managed to take down two of the pirates, and giving a couple of the others scars to remember her by. It had been weight of numbers in the end, and she was forced to listen to their captain give some speech about their luck turning for the better, and their information being true. She didn't really listen, except to note that they'd known who she was, and where they were likely to be sailing. That was troubling, as it meant that she had been betrayed. It was unlikely to be the meatheads, as they hadn't had the time, which left the unfortunate feeling that it had been one of her tribe, but why?

She had no time to think on it though, as she was thrown into a cell after being roughly searched. Once she was alone, she set straight to work. Their search had only found some of her tools, and there wasn't a prison on Midgard that could hold her. Within ten minutes, she was out. She had armed herself with an axe, and snuck onto the deck in the hopes of hiding herself in the bigger ships longboat, or at least finding somewhere that wasn't ankle deep in bilge water. Seeing no-one around, she had made a dash to another piece of cover, and that's when it all went wrong. She ran straight into the swinging arm of the first mate, and been sent sprawling to the floor. Her axe had skittered away out of reach and when her vision stopped swimming he was stood their leering at her.

'We were asked to capture you, and deliver you alive liddle miss, but there are oh so many ways of being alive don't you think? No-one said you had to be whole…'

While saying this he had been playing with his belt, and she had thought he meant to whip her, but catching sight of the look in his eyes, she suddenly knew he had something much worse planned. She let out an involuntary squeak of fear, but as he approached and stood over her, she had kicked up, as hard as she could. His eyes crossed, and he sank without a sound. Scrambling up, she had whirled around, coming face to face with the captain himself. He was stood there with his sword drawn and a smile playing across his lips.

'You're a little wildcat, aren't you? It's too bad for you, it really is. There was more money in bringing you in alive, but they're still willing to pay for a dead Heir.'

As he advanced she backed away, forgetting about the prone figure of the first mate behind her. As she fell, the captain raised his sword to strike and she prayed to all the gods she could think of, and then, just as the sword began its downward stroke, HE was there. A God or a Demon, she didn't know which. A figure in black and red, absolutely silent, with a sword blade clasped between his hands. The captain was too stunned to even react as his sword was released and a dagger was thrust through his eye. It had then turned to her and gestured towards her axe, as though to suggest she arm herself.

She nodded, still in shock, and did not resist as he propelled her back towards the door she had come from. She did not go through it, not at first. She turned to watch, wanting to know who the other rescuers were. She was once again shocked, as there were no others. He had just drawn his sword, which was almost as unusual as his armour, and started towards the fo'c'sle. He cut down two pirates before they even realised he was there, and another was dead before he drew his sword. The others were more cautious after seeing that. They hung back, surrounding him. This did them no good either. He span, arm outstretched towards the rear mast, before turning once again and vaulting at the nearest pirate. Still confused about the spinning thing, the pirate barely got chance to raise his club before his throat was opened and he fell with a gurgle. He had not hit the deck before the Demon had flung a knife at a pirate on the opposite side of the deck, somehow dropping him too.  
Seeing five of their shipmates die in less than two minutes shocked three of them into action, and they ran towards him with a yell. The Demon ducked under the first wild slash, and appeared to sway out of the way of the second pirates swing, only to drive his right elbow into the nose of the third, driving it up and into his brain. In his left hand was a dagger that until seconds ago had been on the belt of the second pirate, to whom it was swiftly returned. He fell with his own dagger through his heart. The first pirate had by now recovered from his missed swing and turned only to see the other two dead, and the Demon still unscathed.

'What are you?! What kind of demon are you?!'

The pirate screamed at the still silent figure before falling to his knees in fear. He started babbling incoherently as the figure slowly approached him, sword held out to his side. The babbling got louder and louder the closer the demon got, before being abruptly cut off. Camicazi shuddered slightly as the head rolled towards her. As more pirates began to appear on deck, she went below. She was not afraid of battles, or death, she simply did not want to watch the slaughter. No mortal could stand against a demon, no matter what the numbers where. It was not too long before the sounds of battle disappeared, and she decided to risk coming out on deck once again. After all, it would be rude not to thank your rescuer, even if they weren't human.  
As she came onto the deck, she went over to the rear mast, still wondering why the demon had pointed to it while in the middle of a fight. At the base of the mast, there was the remains of a crossbow. Thinking she now understood, she looked up, and yes, there was a dead pirate tangled in the rigging, something metal glinting amongst the mess that was his face. So, he hadn't pointed, he had thrown something, but she still had no idea what it was. A faint splashing noise reached her ears as she made her way for'ard, and looking over the side, she could just about make out some figures in the water, swimming away from the boat as hard as they could. She grinned. If they survived to tell the tale, no pirates would dare come near this part of the archipelago, not with a pirate hunting demon about. Looking back on the boat, she could see the black figure of the demon at the very front of the boat, so she clambered up to him.

'Um… I just wanted to say thank you for killing the pirates, and to ask you to please not kill me, I don't think I'd like being dead, and if you did kill me I'd only do my best to haunt you anyway, unless demons can't be haunted because I guess you're already dead….' She trailed off as she realised she was babbling. The demon turned to her, and she looked at him properly for the first time. He was tall, tall as the average Viking male but slimmer, as though made of muscle and sinew. She doubted there was an ounce of fat on him. His face was truly terrifying, with short horns reaching up on either side of his head, and …. That was when she noticed it. It wasn't a face, but a helmet. How could she have been so stupid!  
Before she got any further in her thoughts, the demon reached up and took his helmet off. His hair fell down to frame his face, and a familiar voice came out of his mouth.

'Hey Cami. Did you miss me?'


	4. A preview

Author Update:  
I have an injury that means I'm always in pain. Pain killers don't help much anymore, and I'm tired, sore and angry. So obviously, I've written a story that is based much the same as 'Swords and Scales' but is much darker, much less pleasant, and I'm afraid it doesn't have a happy ending. It will be called 'Wrath'. Below is a preview.

**_Sometimes, life isn't easy. Sometimes, it doesn't get better. Pain doesn't always go away, and sleep becomes a thing of memory. _**

He sat alone, forging his soul in the darkness and quiet.

Dawn saw a lone figure making its way down to the cell containing the young man. He stood there, observing the difference between the prisoner and a boy he had known so long ago. As if deigning to acknowledge him for the first time, the figure within stood. Approaching the bars of the goal, he met the watchers eyes.

The intensity of the gaze caused the older man to take an involuntary step back. Those green eyes were unsettling, and he felt the first twinge of fear. Speaking for the first time since they had captured him, there was an eerie calmness to his voice

'I travelled the world, did you know that? I went so far east it became west, so far south it became north and I saw things no mortal has ever seen before. I hunted them, across the globe. I caused the fall of Pompeii, and saw the death of the only woman I have ever loved. I destroyed every one I found, until there was only one left. One nest. The same nest that has plagued you all these years. I came here to help you end it, once and for all.'

'But the instant you lifted that axe, you doomed them all. Every man, woman and child in this village will die, because of you. They will perish by the sword and by the flame. And you will watch, and you will know: "I did this".'

Returning to his seat on the floor, he fell silent. Unseen to the watcher, a single tear escaped, and made its way slowly down the prisoners face.


	5. Chapter 4

She stood surrounded by the burning ashes of what had once been houses, and let the exhaustion she'd been staving off reach her. She sighed, noting the numerous cuts and bruises that adorned her arms. Was it just her, or were these raids becoming more commonplace? Her injuries from the last raid had not yet healed, and they had been a distraction that had nearly cost her her life on several occasions. Still, she had taken down her fair share of dragons, despite her new axe. Try as she might, she just couldn't seem to get used to it. The balance didn't seem right, the grip was all wrong and it blunted far too easily. She'd have to talk to Gobber about it again.

As she made her way towards the Great Hall, she spotted other Vikings doing the same, including the twins and Fishlegs. The once nerdy boy had grown into himself, and as well as being an astute tactician he had earned himself a good reputation as a near unstoppable berserker. She still remembered when it had first manifested…

She and Ruffnut had been caught in what had seemed like a hopeless situation, with a row of burning houses at their backs, and facing both a Nadder and a Nightmare. They had been barely managing to defend themselves when a blow from the Nightmare had caught Ruffnut and split her side, causing her to cry out. A terrifying roar had answered her, momentarily drowning out the rest of the battle, and she had seen a Gronckle go spinning off as though thrown by some unearthly force. Then Fishlegs had arrived, screaming incoherently and slamming his hammer down into the face of the Nightmare, slaying it instantly. He'd gone on to kill the Nadder and rampage through the rest of the village, causing both Vikings and Dragons alike to scurry out of his way. He had been a fiend that day, killing everything in his path. She had shaken her head in disbelief at the normally quiet and reserved boy, and carried Ruffnut to the healer. She had obviously underestimated how much Fishlegs had cared for the girl. Of course, once the rest of the village had heard of it there had been less than a week before the two were married. Surprisingly, Ruffnut didn't seem upset about it all, and Tuffnut had been slack-jawed in admiration at the trail of destruction…

Running a few steps, she joined them as they made their way to the now routine village meeting.

* * *

'Hiccup?! Is that you? Where did you learn to fight like that? How did you get here? Where've you been!? What's with the armour? How...'

Laughing, he raised his hands, cutting off the flow of questions.

'Please, one at a time! Yes, I'm fairly sure I'm still me. I'm also fine, thanks for asking'

She flushed red at this, he'd just taken on an entire boat load of pirates and she hadn't thought to check if he was injured! He just laughed at her discomfort, which did not help with the blushing.

'The rest of your tribe should be arriving before too long, I told them what happened before I came to get you'

'The rest of my… How did you know I was captured, and how on earth did you reach Bog and get back here so quickly?

He shrugged and replied 'By changewing of course, it was the only way'

'Changewing? You mean you rode a dragon?'

'Sure, why not? Dragons are not what you think they are'

She gasped as the implications of what he was saying hit her. If dragons could be tamed… She grasped his arm, and with a tremor in her voice said

'You can't tell the others this, there's no way they'll accept it. They'll kill your dragon, and probably you too'

He shook her arm off and looked troubled, but only for a moment.

'That's actually why I've come back. I mean to bring down the queen and have peace between Vikings and Dragons.'

'The Queen?' she queried.

'Ever nest is ruled by a queen, and she's responsible for the raids. Take her out, and the raids will stop. I'll explain everything once we get back to Bog. Oh, one more thing. Promise not to freak out?'

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

'You can come out now, I promise you're safe. She wont hurt you, right?' he said whilst glancing at her. She nodded once more, and nearly jumped out of her skin as a changewing seemed to appear next to them. She couldn't help it, she grabbed for her axe but her hands were caught by Hiccup before they reached it.

'Don't' was all he said before slowly approaching the changewing. He held his hand out, and it nuzzled it, before accepting his ministrations and purring like an overgrown cat.

'I was actually kind of hoping you'd like to learn how to do this. I figured a changewing would fit your fighting style. And she'll be really handy for all the sneaking you do'

'Me? Isn't she yours? And how do you mean she'll be useful?'

'You mind demonstrating youngling?' he asked the changewing. It opened its eyes and nodded. It got to its feet and enveloped Hiccup in its wings and they both vanished.

'You see? Changewings have the natural ability to camouflage themselves, and if you're wrapped in its wings you're hidden too'

'Hiccup? Can you step out please? It's like talking to a ghost, I'm not sure I like it'

He laughed, and both he and the changewing came back into focus.

'No, she isn't 'mine'; she just agreed to help me for now. I'm bonded to another, and he's recovering on an island not too far from Bog. It's not really a case of 'owning' a dragon, you can't bond with them like that. It's based on mutual respect. Toothless is my best friend, we fly as a team. I've learned so much about dragons these past few years, probably more than anyone else ever has. Wherever I travelled, I was the first to fly with a dragon. Some cultures revere them, others fear them, and some, like the Vikings, fight them. I've never met a culture that's befriended them, and want the Vikings to be the first.'

A new note had entered his voice as he was speaking, one that she hadn't heard from him before. It wasn't just determination, but self-assurance. The Hiccup who'd left them had just been starting to believe in himself, the Hiccup who'd returned had truly grown into himself, and she couldn't help but admire him. As the thought entered her head she noticed a few other things too. He was now taller than her by a considerable amount. Not quite as tall as the average Viking, but not the undersized person he'd been before. She couldn't be sure, not with the armour, but he looked a lot more toned than he had before. She shook her head to clear it and refocused on the matter at hand.

'Okay Hiccup, I'll believe you. Teach me'


	6. Chapter 5

_**AN: To those of you putting spoilers for HTTYD2 in your summaries: I hate you. The film doesn't come out where I am for another two and a half weeks. I hate spoilers.**_

* * *

The village meeting had been much the same as any other. Nothing new was said, nothing dramatic had happened. As they filed out Astrid noticed that Fishlegs was looking concerned about something, but before she got a chance to ask he'd disappeared, saying he needed to check some numbers or something. What an odd boy. She turned her attention back to the matter in hand, which was in fact Snotlout's hand. Being named Heir had really gone to his head and if he'd been annoying before, he was insufferable now. Giving his wrist a final twist she released it and leaned in threateningly.

'I've warned you before, I won't do it again. Touch me without my permission one more time and I swear I will cut off the offending limb.'

He gulped and looked momentarily cowed, but that was quickly washed away by his arrogant smirk.

'I'm the Heir to the tribe now, how much longer do you think you can get away with playing the shield-maiden? Everyone knows the Chief needs a strong wife…'

With his words ringing in her ears, she made her way down to the forge to try and finally get her axe sorted. She couldn't deny it; Snotlout's words had troubled her. She knew Shield-maidens were only allowed to remain unmarried at the sufferance of the chief, and if the chief was Snotlout… She grimaced, and vowed to make sure that nothing happened to Stoic for a very long time.

* * *

A month had passed since she'd uttered those fateful words and her world had been turned upside down. It had been hard work, but it had been worth it. She doubted she would ever forget her first flight, or the day she'd seen Hiccup nonchalantly walk up to _and calm_ a rampaging Timberjack. Glancing over to where she thought Veil was, she called out

'Was it worth it for you?'

A snort in her left ear let her know that she was asking a silly question. She whirled to face the invisible snorter and grabbed for a chin, somehow actually catching it. It was their game, sneaking up on one another. She didn't manage it as often as Veil did, she was at a disadvantage after all. Luckily for her, if she scratched just here on her dragon, it would collapse in a visible puddle of contentedness. She grinned at the idiotic look on Veil's face; she could always rely on her to make things brighter. Playing around kept the two occupied until their replacements came up and the two of them meandered into town for some food, and to see if Hiccup had arrived. Although he didn't live on Bog, his island was only a few hours flight away so he was a constant visitor.

He had indeed arrived, and was unsurprisingly at the forge. She walked in to see him chatting animatedly about something, but he broke off when he saw her, and did that funny little bow of his, which consisted of crossing his arms in an x over his chest and bowing at the waist.

'Lady Heir, it is good to see you. I have something for you, if you'll follow me'

'Of course Forgemaster, it is good to see you too' she replied smoothly. Burn her, she'd almost forgotten that no-one (except her and the chief) knew who he was. She hesitated as he walked past her.

'Your armour… It looks different. Have you been experimenting again?'

'Of course. I believe I've got the trigger mechanism sorted now.'

Though his mask covered his face, she could almost sense him grinning when she asked what he meant by a trigger in his armour. In answer, he raised his arm towards a shield and flexed his wrist. A crossbow quarrel shot out of a hidden recess in that arm and buried itself in the shield.

'Reloading is still a pain, but I think even just the one hidden bolt should give me an edge if I need it.'

She was silent for a while as they walked to the docks, where Hiccup's odd little ship was moored. He ran inside and returned with a trunk that he set before her. Seeing this, a crowd began to gather as the Forgemaster's weapons were always things of great interest. She popped the lid and couldn't help but gasp at what lay within. It was a sword, but not like any other sword she had ever seen before. As she picked it up her awed gasp was echoed by the assembled crowd. It shone with an odd greenish silver light, and the grip fit her hand as though she had been born with it there. As she stared, she became aware of Hiccup babbling.

'It's from a new alloy you see, I've tested it and I can't make it rust, it's stronger than most other metals and will not damage easily. It's light so..'

'Forgemaster' She said, cutting him off. 'You have truly excelled yourself with this, I doubt there is another like this in the world.' 'Please, accompany me to the training ring, so that we may test it out.'

'Err, sure. Don't you want to look at what else is in the trunk before you go?'

She had been so wrapped up in the sword she had not even noticed that there was anything else in there. She stooped and brought up the odd coloured bundle that remained. Unwrapping it, she found two extremely odd looking daggers that matched her sword in colouration. She turned to Hiccup with a questioning look.

'They're called _Sai_, I'll show you how to use them more as we spar. It's the cloak I think you'll really like.'

She looked at the odd coloured cloak and felt a twinge of doubt. It really didn't look like much. She put it on anyway, not wishing to offend and there was a shocked silence from the crowd. To them, she had disappeared in broad daylight.

'It's made from a type of cloth I picked up in my travels, and sewn with changewing scales. It should be fireproof, as well as mimicking the effect of changewings. You'll be almost invisible with that on, as long as you're still. Moving quickly will stop the pattern from working as well and you'll be easier to spot.'

She turned to him, almost speechless with thanks. Seeing the look on her face, he closed the gap and took her arm in his, turning towards the ring when he stopped dead.

'Stupid, stupid. I almost forgot' he murmured. Raising his voice, he spoke to the assembled crowd;

'There are three more trunks below, I would appreciate it if you could take them to the square where I will be trading, as soon as the Lady Heir and I have finished sparring. There is also a smaller box with a weapon for Chief Bertha. If someone could ensure it gets to her I would be most grateful.'

As the duo walked towards the sparring ground she leaned in and murmured to him too softly for any eavesdropper to catch.

'There'll probably be a fight about who gets to carry your wares; you've become a much respected smith. Just try not to let it go to your head.'

'You positively wound me Cami, when am I ever arrogant?'

'I can hear the smirk in your voice.' She deadpanned.

'Why Cami, I do believe my sense of humour is rubbing off on you!' he replied, giving a throaty laugh.

'Hmmm. Well, I'll have to make up for it by kicking your ass in the ring then, unless you've improved while you were gone.'

'I think I might have gotten a little better...'


	7. Chapter 6

Camicazi sat dejectedly in her house, listening to her mother rave about her new mace. To hear her speak you'd think Hiccup had descended from Asgard to forge her weapons. She blew out a sigh, not realising her mother had caught it.

'What's got you so down? Didn't you get a new weapon today?' She asked, a touch of motherly concern showing.

'No, I did.' Cami drew her sword and passed it to her mother, whose eyes bulged upon seeing it. She inspected every inch of it, from the heron on the pommel to the triskelions etched into the blade.

'Then what's wrong? This is easily the best sword I've ever seen. The detail, the balance... It's near perfect'

'It's not the sword mother, it's just that I challenged him to a sparring match to test it out'

Cami sighed again and seemed to slump. The chief looked a little worried, Cami was easily the best swordswoman in the tribe.

'You didn't… you didn't injure him did you?' She asked finally.

'That's just it! I couldn't come close! No matter what I did, however hard I fought, I couldn't even get near to scoring a hit. How did he get that good? I tried every trick I could, and I still spent more time on my back than ever before! It's almost scary.'

Her mother gave a throaty chuckle and put her arm around her despondent daughter.

'Well my child, If he is as good as you say, then there really is no shame in losing. If you really want to find out his secret, I suggest you spend some more time on your back' she said with a grin and a wink.

'Mum!'

'What? You two are already close friends, and any child from the two of you would be a blessing to the tribe. The closer we can bind him to us the happier I'll be.'

Cami shrugged off her mother's arm and turned to face her, trembling slightly.

'Have you ever spoken to him mother? I mean really spoken to him, not as chief to forger?' 'Something bad happened to him while he was travelling, something awful. He won't talk about it, says it's too painful.'

She paused, drawing breath and looking worried and pensive.

'I've already tried mother. Do you remember when he and I went flying with Veil and Toothless for the first time? When we stopped to watch the sunset I thought it would be the perfect chance. Before I leaned in, I noticed him stroking a necklace. It was obviously a woman's, though I've never seen a design like it before. When I asked him, he just seemed to seize up. All he'd say was that it belonged to someone he'd failed.'

She seemed to collect herself for a moment then looked her mother and chief in the eye and seemed to make a decision.

'I won't pursue him, and I suggest you ask the others not to. It is more likely to make him leave than to get him to stay. I don't think we can afford to lose him now, do you?'

Bertha drew herself up and looked at her child with a beady eye. She was damn proud of the girl, she'd done the right thing so far and she did have a point. Hiccup was too great an asset to lose.

'If that is your honest assessment, I'll put it out that he is not to be pursued. We can't afford to throw him away like those foolish Hooligans did.'

As Camicazi turned to leave, Bertha coughed to get her attention once more, proffering the sword she still held. As her daughter left, presumably to fly with that overgrown lizard of hers, her thoughts returned to the sword. It had been many years since she had seen a heron marked blade…

* * *

Fishlegs was terrified. This was worse than the battlefield. Far worse. He had to speak to the council and convince them to listen to him. If they didn't... well, it was the end of Berk. With that, he squared his shoulders and stood up to speak.

'ENOUGH'

The council grew silent, mostly out of shock. The temerity of the lad, quieting them! As Spitelout rose to begin shouting, Fishlegs spoke out again.

'Yell at me later, this is too important. If you don't listen to me, Berk is doomed. We've all noticed the raids are coming more often and hitting us harder'

'I've been looking at the numbers. I know, not very Viking, but very important. Two months ago, we had three raids. Last month it was a raid a week. At the moment we're facing almost 2 raids a week. If this carries on, next month will be a raid every other night.'

He paused, letting his stark words sink in. Before anyone recovered, he started speaking once more.

'If we carry on like we are, we won't make it to the end of next month, we haven't got the supplies. However, I'm not here to tell you were doomed. I'm here because I have a plan.'

He paused again, taking a deep breath and leaning his hands on the table.

'I can tell you when the raids are going to be. I've done the maths, and I've been right the last 19 out of 20 times. I might not always get it right, but it's a damn sight better than what we do now. Knowing when they're coming will give us an advantage, and we need every edge we can get.'

He sank back into his seat, shaking slightly. Stoick was the first to speak.

'Thank you Fishlegs. It may not have been what some of us wanted to hear,' he gazed pointedly at Spitelout, 'But I think it was something we needed to hear. If you can really predict the raids you'll be saving lives. Go on, off you go. The council will need to discuss this, and how we can use it in more depth.'


	8. Chapter 7

_**I do appreciate reviews, after all, I can't get better if you don't tell me where I'm going wrong.**_

It had been almost three months since Fishlegs had come up with his plan, and so far there had been no unexpected raids. Sure, there had been a couple of times when they hadn't shown up at all, but everyone felt that it was better to have prepared pointlessly than to have been caught unprepared. Fishlegs and his numbers had become almost indispensable to the village. The winter had been one of the hardest in memory, but the whole village knew that it would have been much, much worse if they had chosen not to listen.

With winter slowly releasing the land, people were looking ahead again. It was almost time for their annual meeting with the Bog Burglars, which mostly consisted of Stoick and Bertha arguing a lot before having a drinking competition. There had been a rivalry between their clans for many years, sometimes friendly, sometimes not. They were fairly friendly at the moment which meant the likelihood of bloodshed was very low.

Astrid was particularly glad of this as she had been placed in charge of the trips guards. It had been an unusual appointment as she was still very young, but as trouble was unlikely Stoick and the council had decided that the experience would be good for her. She felt a pang of sadness at the realisation that her position meant her childhood was well and truly over. Time was starting to take its toll on their group. Fishlegs would be staying on Berk working on his raid predictions, with Ruffnut staying to make sure he remembered to eat and sleep. Snotlout would be going too; it would be his first trip somewhere as the Heir to the tribe. She could scarcely recognise him as the boy who had been so resolute in pursuing her. After the …incident… with the Nightmare which had culminated in him losing his left leg he had become much more conscientious and self-aware. Gone was the battle-lust, the ego (well, most of) and the bragging. After his recovery, which had been slow and painful, he began spending more and more time shadowing his uncle, learning the duties expected of him. They actually made a decent fighting duo with his brute force providing a countrpoint to her nimbleness and speed. Astrid was starting to rethink her opinion of him, but it seemed that whenever they were getting close, the old Snotlout would re-emerge and spoil it.

Giving her braid a tug, she sighed. He might not be as annoying as he used to be, but still… She just didn't seem to 'click' with him at all. What was wrong with her?

* * *

Camicazi, Heir to the Bog-Burglar Tribe and daughter of Big-Boobied Bertha, thief extraordinaire and master swordswoman, was worried. It was not a feeling she was fond of, but at least she was not alone in feeling it. The entire tribe was on edge. They weren't frightened by storms, were unfazed by pirates, but one man-child being almost a week late? That unsettled them. They had not thought much of him being late, not at first. Poor winds could have delayed him, or he could have been working on one of his new inventions and lost track of time. No, the delay wasn't what was worrying her. It was the fact that one of their fishing boats had seen Hiccup's Cutter floating aimlessly. There had been no-one on board, and it was fire-damaged. Having seen first-hand what Hiccup, never mind his Night-Fury companion, was capable of, she dreaded to think what it would have taken to overcome them. It was the presence of the boat that finally made up her mind. She'd waited long enough, secrecy be damned!

She arrived back at her house in time to see her mother shooting down yet ANOTHER ill-planned 'rescue' mission. The location of Hiccup's island was a secret known only to her, and she had promised to keep it that way unless it was a life or death situation.

Cutting into the conversation she said simply;

'I'll go.'

'Don't be foolish, We don't know where he is, and I simply can't spare a ship to go searching, not with the Hooligans arriving in less than a week.'

Cami coughed awkwardly, and said with a trace of hesitancy;

'Actually, I do. It's not even that far from here, maybe three hours flight. I can be there and back by tomorrow, if you'll let me go…'

Bertha's eyes had bulged at this, and she very nearly exploded. Drawing in a few deep breaths, she spoke with a dangerous calmness.

'And you didn't think to mention this to us before now!?'

Cami cut in again, knowing that her mother was liable to descend into a rage-filled rant that could last for _ages._

_'_He made me swear okay? I know we're liars and thieves, but he made me swear an oath!'

This seemed to placate her mother, and the throbbing vein in her temple slowly disappeared.

'Three hours away you say? Fine, I'll let you go on one condition. I'm going with you. I want to know where he is, and what's so damned important that he needs to hide an entire Island from us!'

The look in her eye suggested bad things happening if she argued, so Cami wisely bit her tongue.


	9. Chapter 8

**_Please don't forget to check out my other HTTYD story. I really appreciate your input and reviews on my stories too, so thank you to everyone who has made the effort._**

By the third hour, Cami was deeply regretting her mothers decision to come along. She hadn't realised how unused to flying her mother was. She'd complained almost non-stop, and Cami could not help but feel sorry for her mother's dragon. Spite was as unused to carrying someone as her mother was to being carried. The bond between those two was uncannily similar to the one that Veil and herself shared. It did sort of make sense; Spite was Veil's mother after all. She suspected that those two had bonded out of a mutual concern for their daughters. She'd have to ask Hiccup about that, and about…

Before too long, she was shaken out of her reverie by a warble from Veil, they were nearly there! She grinned, it wasn't a moment too soon!

That grin was very quickly wiped off her face as she took in the destruction before her. It looked like war had come to Hiccup's Island. It had been covered by a small forest, but those tall and verdant trees were now blackened stumps. There wasn't any sign of what had once been the docks.

'What could have done this?'

Her mother looked grim, and didn't reply. They started descending, circling and searching for any signs of what had happened. Neither of them truly believed Hiccup could have survived whatever it was that had wreaked so much destruction.

They were both wrong. As the neared the rocky southern end of the island, both dragons warbled in excitement and turned to land. As they did, the two armed and anxious warriors were met by the sounds of metal on metal.

Swords drawn, they crept towards where Veil had led. As she approached the rock, _something_ blurred, and she vanished. Letting out a cry of shock, Camicazi rushed forwards to where Veil had been, and rested her arms against the rock. To her surprise, she fell straight through. Dusting herself off, she turned. From inside the tunnel, it was obvious that she hadn't fallen through rock, but had tried to rest against a piece of material, obviously made from the same stuff her cloak was.

The fact that someone had destroyed the island, obliterated a cabin and docks, and that there were still sounds of clanging metal reaching them was very disturbing. Proceeding somewhat nervously down the corridor, they barely noticed the increasing heat. As they rounded the final corner, Cami was caught completely unprepared for the sight before her.

* * *

Preparations were well underway for their trip to the Bog-Burglar tribe. All that remained was to decide exactly who was going to stay or go. Fishlegs had revised his predictions again, and they were now expecting a raid the village when they would be away. That meant a smaller than usual Honour Guard, which was a headache in and of itself. A large number of warriors could show that they didn't trust their hosts, or it could be taken as a sign of respect. The Bogs were notoriously hard to read, so Stoick had stuck to a reasonably large complement for the past few years. Cutting the numbers down would likely be taken as a sign that Berk no longer respected them enough to send as many people, but it was unavoidable. They could hardly leave Berk undefended when a raid was coming!

Astrid sighed, and realised she was unexpectedly weary. She had been in session with the village council for hours, and she was exhausted. Growing up, she had never really realised how complex these things were, and she was eternally glad that she was not the one making the decisions. She, along with Fishlegs and Snotlout had been there mostly to observe. That said, both Astrid and the council were more than a little surprised when Snotlout asked to speak. Not only that, but he had proposed a very worthwhile idea – leaving the majority of the warriors on berk under the command of Spitelout, the chief's brother and second-in-command, while taking a smaller contingent of the more renowned fighters as the Guards. What had surprised them the most, and proved without a shadow of a doubt that Snotlout really had changed, was his admission that he and Fishlegs had come up with it together. It had seemed to her that Snotlout had found his second-in-command already.  
As she left the hall, she grinned to herself. Fishlegs may be proving himself as a worthy member of the council now, but she'd never forget how he and Hiccup had been so odd and different as children. Her smile fled. Hiccup. She hadn't thought about him in a very long time…

* * *

Hiccup stood with his back to the tunnel, intent on the mechanical contraption before him. On the far side of the room was a glowing forge, filling the chamber with an intense heat. That must be why Hiccup was shirtless.

Cami could not help but admire the firmness of his body and the obvious muscle tone. It seemed working in a forge and riding Toothless had burned away every inch of excess weight. As he shifted and the muscles on his back rippled, Cami's breath caught in her throat. Her mother had no such problem. Letting out a loud guffaw, she slapped her daughter on the back and gave her the dirtiest grin she had ever seen before whispering;

'Are you _sure _you've given up chasing him?'

Unfortunately, Bertha's whisper was not exactly quiet, meaning that Hiccup heard every word. Whirling around, he flushed red and cast about for his tunic. Realising just who was standing there, his eyes went wide and he turned away from them again.

'Err, umm, Chief Bertha! I wasn't expecting you… Not that you're not welcome or anything, it's just that it's really a surprise to see you and…'

Mercifully, Bertha cut off his stuttered ramblings with a laugh.

'Relax! I've known who you were since you came back to us.' 'Now why don't you tell us who or what attacked you, and why you don't seem to have a scratch on you?'

'You knew!? Attacked? What on… oooohhhh yeah… The forest…. Right. About that…'

Watching Hiccups face go from shock, to quizzical, to a deep flush of embarrassment within the space of a moment caused Cami to break her own silence by joining in with her mother's laughter.

'We were worried when you were late you know. When we found your boat half the tribe started panicking. And when we saw your island… Well, we assumed the worst'

At this, Hiccup gave a laugh of his own, finally having found a tunic.

'As if Toothless would let anything happen to me, right bud?'

The dragon in question lazily opened one eye, and gave a trilling hum that suggested that his rider tested that idea far too often.

'Toothless! Don't give me that, it's your fault about the forest anyway!'

Indignation writ plain across his features, the Night Fury sat up, rolled his eyes and grumbled something back.

'Are you pouting Big baby boo? It's not my fault you got all overexcited now is it?'

Hands folded across his chest, Hiccup was looking into Toothless' eyes with a smirk, clearly believing he'd won their little exchange. Toothless narrowed his eyes, he did not appreciate the smirk, nor did he appreciate the name. He got his revenge the best way he knew how. He pounced and started slobbering on the young man, making sure to get it _everywhere. _

'Toothless! You know tha...'

He cut himself short and gave a pointed glance at their observers. Cami and Bertha had their mouths hanging open, but Veil and Spite were on the floor, chortling as only dragons can.

Forgetting for a moment that he was the Alpha, and therefore technically the most respected of all dragons, Toothless bounded over to Cami, and with eyes as wide as any puppy, gave her a big lick for good measure.

'Bleurgh! Toothless!'

Hiccup got to his feet, flinging excess saliva at Toothless' unprotected back.

'Right. The forest. Well, we weren't attacked. Though I think you've guessed that now… Yeah… It turns out that I might just be the worst cook in the history of the archipelago.'

Bertha just stared. Looking at her, Hiccup faltered, and flushed red again.

'How hard can it be, I thought? Loads of people do it. Well, it turns out that I am not, in fact, a bread-making Viking.'

'You tried to make bread, and you did all this?!' Bertha managed to splutter.

Hiccup gave her another sheepish look, and rubbed at the nape of his neck.

'Well, it was taking ages, and I was bored, so I asked Toothless if he could, you know, speed it up a bit.' 'It's hardly my fault he decided that that meant he should blow my cabin to smithereens is it?'

'And that led to the entire forest burning down how?'

'Errr… Well… They're dragons?'

Obviously seeing that this was not enough explanation for either Cami or chief Bertha, he tried again.

'Dragons… They breathe fire, right? Well, after Toothless set my house and the clearing on fire, the rest of them decided to "help" out. Turns out that dragons might just be the worst fire-fighters in history.'

Hiccup tried a grin, but it fell away when confronted with their stony gazes.

'And you didn't think of letting us know because…?'

'Ah… Well, I couldn't fly over because _someone_ managed to set fire to their tailfin, and the fire burnt down the docks. I'm glad to hear my boat's okay though.'

Toothless had the good grace to look embarrassed, before hiding his face with his remaining tailfin.

'I was actually working on the replacement when you arrived.'

Hiccup gestured around, and for the first time, Cami took in the cave as a whole. It was incredible. Bits of armour, strange maps and tools she couldn't identify were everywhere.

'This is my forge. We built it here so we didn't, you know, burn the island down.'

He said this while shooting a dirty look at his scaled companion, who merely snorted and looked away.

'Hiccup… This place is amazing… Why have you got so many weapons? And this, is this… Dragon armour?!'

A pained look passed over Hiccup's face, but it was quickly replaced with one of steely resolve.

'There's something I need to tell you. Something is coming. Something Vikings have never faced before.'


End file.
